You Should Sleep, Hero,
by SamuraiSal1
Summary: It's hard, Zelda knows, to follow Link around while he fights. It's even harder when she has to watch him get himself hurt. But the most difficult part is to fight back against her own emotions when she has to heal him. Oneshot; Link and Zelda/Sheik


I never realized how much I hated dragons until I saw one attack him—the hero, and quite frankly, the boy I'm supposed to be following. In a completely platonic and non-stalkerish type of way, I assure you. As it is, I'm supposed to be locked up in a tower, right now, and Impa is watching 'me' sleep.

Surely she should know better after almost a month of this. Shouldn't she know magic trick when she saw one?

But either I'm getting a lot better at magicking and she doesn't notice, or she's already noticed and is deciding to humor me. I can never tell with that woman, dear to me though she may be.

But back to dragons. Now, I know that they aren't all evil or heartless or deranged—obviously not. That would be unfair bias, and trust me, I hate biases more than anything else. Stereotypes are not to be made, and people are not to be judged by their race, gender, orientation, or things of that nature. It's what's been drilled into my head since I was a child, and trust me, I understand.

That doesn't stop me from hating those giant lizards, though.

The hero, Link, suddenly stirs. He tries—pitifully, but admirably, though it's idiocy that I've scarcely seen in these past seven years—to sit up, and I step from the shadows.

It's something I've gotten good at, lately.

"You should rest, Hero," I say, as smoothly and as evenly as I can, though the bandage that takes up a good portion of the right side of his torso is distracting. I want to stare at it, to rip it off and coat it in red potion, and then go and destroy the monster that gave him the burn in the first place. But, fortunately, Link's already done that, hasn't he?

"No, I'm fine… I just need… Do you have a glass of water or something?" he mumbles, and he says it so tiredly that it's just pathetic, but somehow adorable. …Even if he's being obstinate. And childish as it may be, he looks like some kind of teddy-bear with ragged cloth covering it—obviously worn, but somehow… more huggable because of it.

I nod, taking care that the red cloth I keep around my face doesn't fall away. It's done that before, and I thought I was going to die of embarrassment. Thankfully, he was already half passed-out, so I needn't have worried. I almost motion to the table beside him, but then I remember that I don't really want him to move around much and so I grab it for him. After I hand it to him, he just smiles gratefully—painfully—and I pretend I don't see his suddenly contented smile as he swallows it in one big gulp.

"You should rest, Hero," I repeat, but he just ignores me for a moment, instead choosing to keep his eyes open, though I know it'll be a losing battle against sleep. I find it funny, just for a moment, thinking that this will probably be the first 'battle' he loses. …Thankfully, he doesn't see my smile. Or, at least, I hope he doesn't. My hand automatically goes up to my face to ensure that, yes, my cowl is still up.

Link just rolls his eyes, as usual. Unfortunately for him, I see the bags under his eyes even more clearly when he does that. I'm surprised he's even still lucid, he's so obviously exhausted.

"Seriously, Sheik. I'll be fine. How long was I out," he starts to lean forward, reaching for his sword, a reflex, I guess, of his eternal battling. I pretend not to see his wince. "…Anyways?"

"I don't really know," I say, shrugging with one shoulder. It's the truth. Perhaps I should've paid attention, but when he passed out, I was a little too busy worrying about getting him to safety to check the clock. And when I actually did get him in some form of shelter, his burns required a little too much attention for me to even think about what time it was.

He looks out the one window that this room has—a courtesy of the Gorons—and he realizes almost as soon as I do that it's mid-afternoon. "Wasn't it late at night when I finished off…?"

Link trails off, and I pretend that I don't know exactly why. That dragon had been his friend, after all. It must've hurt more than anything to deliver that one finishing strike—for more reasons than one.

"…I believe you're right," I say, trying to be the cryptic, mysterious guide that I've been passing myself off as. From what I can tell, he believes it, because when he looks at me, it's a look of genuine curiosity, and a frown that tells me he wants to know what my face looks like under my cowl, because my eyes aren't doing enough for him anymore…

…I'm sure.

Thankfully, my mask prevents him from seeing the bright red blush that I'm absolutely positive is now lining my cheeks. Right now, though, I'm just hoping that I've stopped blushing all the way to my ears. It was annoying enough as a little kid, but now that I'm a grown woman—passing as a man or not—it's just plain embarrassing.

Now isn't the time to be thinking this. I look away, straight out the window, and I hear the rustling of sheets next to me.

"Rest, hero," I say, a little more forcefully this time. Didn't he know that I was trying to keep him from getting even worse?

"Thanks, but," he whimpers in pain, just a little, just enough for me to start to worry again. But then again, he's the Hero of Time, and so suddenly he manages to slide one leg from under the sheets. The next follows, and soon he's hopping off of the bed. "But… no thanks."

I pretend that I don't mind in the slightest that he's, as always, trying to do more than required. One of these days, I'd teach him to relax and take it easy.

But today isn't that day, though, is it?

"If you insist upon moving before you're fully healed, I strongly recommend purchasing a potion to speed your recovery."

It isn't much, but I think I see a nod of appreciation in my direction.

"Thanks," he says, picking up his sword and examining it with obvious fondness. "I thought I already had some, but…"

"I had to use it on you to heal up the worst of it," I say, once more looking away. "I hope you don't mind."

Link blinks, apparently taken aback. "Why would I have minded? You, you know…" He's mumbling, looking at the ground again, and I'm once again reminded that he still has the mind and heart and innocence of a ten-year-old. Thankfully, though, even if he's short for his age, he's strong enough now to defeat Ganondorf.

…Even if I want to lock him up and keep him from ever getting hurt again, because Din torch it all if I'm going to just stand by and watch as he gets himself _clobbered_ by anything ever again!

The hero is leaning heavily on the bed-frame, and I shoot him a disapproving look. "You really should be resting, you know. I was just planning on picking up some of that red potion…"

I want him to stay. Surely he can see that.

"Sorry, Sheik," he says, awkwardly scratching the back of his head. It must be just a bad habit, because from the burns on his arm and his involuntary wince—I'm sensing a pattern here—I'd say that he's actually getting a little flustered. "I… Well, a hero can't just sit around forever, right?"

"I don't understand your hurry to leave. You're burned and bruised and obviously exhausted. Why is it so important for you to go days on end without even stopping for a break?" I ask, exasperation taking over the carefully guarded expression I'd been holding up all this time.

He looks a bit unsettled. "Well someone has to protect the people!" Link reasons, crossing his arms as haughtily as he can manage. Unfortunately, not only does his 'haughty look' not work—he seems to be more of a disgruntled teddy-bear, but at least it's cute—but he's no longer leaning on the bed-post.

Link slides against the wall with a loud thump, and I'm suddenly standing over the top of him, trying to maintain some sort of balance.

"…Don't say 'I told you so.' …Please?" he asks, and I grab his wrist, pulling him up.

"I won't so long as you stay here while I refill your container of red potion."

Link hesitates, looking out the window for a moment, but then looks at me and nods, defeated. He looks so beaten-down, and he's only been an 'adult' for, what, a week? It must be hard, coming back to a world that's already been conquered by the evil you swore to drive away.

And it must be harder, still, to have so many people depending on you.

An awkward silence fills the room, and I find myself staring at him for longer than necessary—particularly at his lips. And from the heat that suddenly burns at my ears and cheeks, I'm blushing. Hopefully he can't see.

I suddenly turn away, giving him a curt nod, and walk through the door.

…

When I come back, he's gone.

I shouldn't be surprised, but I'm furious, nonetheless. Of all the nerve he's managed to accumulate, he's decided to be such a self-depreciating hero?

…I don't honestly know what to think about it, but I'm following him.

I'm sure Impa won't mind it if I'm 'asleep' for a little longer than usual.

000

"I go to sleep for five minutes, 'hero', and find that you've gone gallivanting off again, before you even have time to rest, and you think I'll be happy to see you when I _do_ wake up?" Navi asks, incredulous, and the way Link stumbles backwards suggests that there's more to her comment than I picked up on at first. …Well, either that, or he really should've slept for longer because his balance is off.

"Well, I guess I just kinda…" the hero starts to say, stuttering and mumbling, blushing so heavily that I can't help but want to give him the tightest hug I could manage. "Um… I guess I thought you'd just be happy to see me anyways and say, 'Oh, hey, Link, nice job for defeating that dragon!'"

The fairy is quiet a moment, and it's almost impossible to read her expression—mainly because she seems to be little more than a floating ball of light with wings.

"…Nice job, then, Hero, for defeating the… dragon," she mumbles, and I think that Link knows it's the only apology he's going to get. "But why in Hyrule did you leave when you didn't even get the treatment you needed?"

Link just shrugs, continuing to stumble through the field. It's worrying me, perhaps more than it should be. I guess I'm just not used to seeing him move with anything less than the grace that the prophecies foretold…

Nayru help me, he's such a hero!

"…Hey, Navi, do you think I should start wearing pants?"

…Okay, so maybe he's not quite what I had in mind for a hero. I, along with most of Hyrule, for that matter, had pictured him as some noble spirit, probably in his early twenties. He could ride a horse, he could use a bow and arrow, he could… he could basically do anything and everything that we'd need him to do.

And for the most part, he seemed to be shaping up to be that hero. But there was something that everyone had overlooked—

He was still just ten years old on the inside, and that was where the problem lay. He was just as stubborn as he'd been back then—call it determination or bravery if you will, but I knew him as a kid, and believe me, he always seemed to have something to prove—only now he had the strength to back it up. It was almost funny.

"Link," the fairy mumbles tiredly, clearly still tired from waking from her nap, "Do us both a favor and don't ask that again."

The hero raises a finger as if to say more on the matter, but Navi quickly cuts him off. "Ever again. Just drop it, okay?"

Link nods, feigning defeat. But I knew better—he wouldn't let it go yet.

It was starting to get dark, and I saw a sheen of sweat over the hero's brow. Though he'd been ignoring it for a while, he also had a slight limp. I guessed that it was the same thing that gave him trouble back at the room the Gorons had made for him.

Navi seems to have noticed it, too.

"Say, Link, are you sure you don't need to take a break…?" she asks, for the thirty-seventh time that day, and by this point, the hero's throat was apparently too dry to even speak anymore. He glares at her in obvious annoyance but quickly looked away.

Must've been getting a headache, lousy self-depreciating hero.

"You should stop by Kakariko Village," Navi says, and I have to force myself to stay in the shadows. I feel inclined to agree with her, after all; it's all I can do to keep myself from knocking him out and dragging him there, myself.

Link glares at her again.

Several hours later, he was still trying to walk, but it was obvious he was having a hard time. I don't think he'd had water recently, aside from the puny little glass I gave him when he first woke up.

The hero looked just about on the verge of collapse, and Navi was flying straight into his face in an effort to get him to stop.

"Link! Stop it, this isn't funny!" she says, pulling on one ear. "It's night-time anyways, don't you want to rest?"

He was silent a moment.

"…Well," he managed to say, though his voice cracked at the lack of water, "I kind of want to get to a town, okay? I could… I could really use some water."

From the ashamed look in his eyes, you'd think he just admitted defeat to a butterfly or something. …I then decided that, with Navi being little more than a glorified butterfly that followed him around, I might not've been far from the truth.

Still, he was asking, so I had little reason to hide.

I stepped out of the shadows and appeared before him. Link, tired as he was, panicked a moment before flailing and, ultimately, ending on his rear. He blinked in the moonlight, obviously trying to distinguish my shape against the night sky.

"I have water if you'd like some, oh noble hero," I say, and hopefully he caught onto the sarcasm. It wasn't exactly Sheikah protocol, so I truly hope he appreciated it.

"Have you been… following me?" Link asks, eyes wide. I just shrug.

"You expected me not to? You did sneak out, after all. It wasn't exactly as noble as the behavior that people seem to expect from you." The hero looks to the ground a moment, and I quickly backpedal. "I mean, I don't expect it or anything—I know that, on the inside at least, you're still a kid and… well, it's not really fair to pin the hopes of an entire civilization on you, is it?"

He looks baffled for a split second, then starts to laugh. "Will I ever figure you out?"

"Doubtful."

And like that, everything seemed to go back to normal. I handed him the remains of my water—he didn't need to know that I'd scarcely had any, myself, and had been trying to save as much as possible for him—and he drank it in big gulps.

"You know, one of these days you're going to remember to actually prepare before going on a trip," Navi says, chiding him, apparently feeling left out in the conversation.

As if Link really needed someone else scolding him, but I thankfully held my tongue.

"…So, would you appreciate it if I told you that Kakariko was just over the hill?" I ask him, keeping my voice even, like I usually tried to do.

"Why didn't you tell me before?" Link jokes, trying to break out into a run.

Needless to say, it wasn't exactly hard to latch onto one arm and bring him to a halt. "No running for you, Hero," I say, frowning, though he couldn't see it under the cowl. "And if you keep insisting on stressing your body when it already needs a break, I'll have to knock you unconscious and drag you by your legs to a safe-house."

He doesn't look nearly afraid enough at this prospect. Mostly, he just looks tired, and he nods, yawning. "Whatever you say, Sheik."

We walk forward slowly, and I know that he'd have liked to go faster, but he wasn't complaining. I think he was trying, more than anything, to keep down the water. It seems like he'd been rather dehydrated, after all…

Slowly but surely, though, we get to Kakariko in one piece. Unfortunately for the both of us, I end up half-supporting him in the end. It's not like I mind too much, though. I'm strong enough, and he's actually allowing me to give him some kind of a half-hug. I won't let him see how happy I am about it.

When we reach the inn, I deposit the hero off on one of the chairs and try to ignore the stares of those nearby. Which, thankful for me, are very few. Still, those that are there give us both quizzical looks, but Link has (thankfully) already put his hat over his face and is half-dozing against the wall.

"…A room, please?" I ask, and the receptionist nods, scribbling something down in that notebook of hers. After a moment, she looks up and gives me a strange look.

"Sir, will that be one bed or two?"

"One," I say, not really thinking about it. I know for a fact that it'll be cheaper that way, and Nayru knows that I don't have many rupees on me.

The receptionist raises an eyebrow and colors a bit, and I'm forced to look further into what I just said. Still, I'm not about to take it back to please a nosy inn-keeper. She can think all she wants about my request—I don't have to like it, but I can deal with it.

"That'll be 40 rupees," she says quietly, looking nervously around at the other guests in the lobby. None of them even look this way, thankfully. I hand her a purple one and tell her to keep the change. I suppose she's glad, at least, that I had the 'decency' to give her a good tip.

The receptionist hands me the keys for Room 14, and I wordlessly help Link to his feet. He doesn't seem happy about something, but I can't tell if it's from being woken up or being led around by someone. I'm not particularly keen on asking, either, so we reach the room silently.

Once we pass through the doorway, he tries to shove me away, mumbling something about "Don't need no help," but unfortunately for him, his body doesn't seem to agree. Thankfully, I was still standing right behind him, and I caught him when he fell forward.

"Mm-hmm," I smirk, holding him up and leading him to the single bed. "I'm sure you don't need any help. You're the Hero of Time, after all—obviously too strong to have gotten hurt in the first place, right? So, of course you don't need anyone to help you."

He grumbles something incoherent, and I just push him backwards.

"My shield's still on," he mutters tiredly, and I nod, forcing him forwards and taking off both sword and shield, along with everything else that seems to have a possibility of disturbing him from the rest he so obviously needs.

…I'm trying awfully hard to resist the urge to take off his tunic. It can't be too comfortable, after all—maybe, just maybe…

No. Nayru, no. I'm a proud, secretive, powerful Sheikah. I can't think like the teenage girl I am. That'd just be wrong, and would totally blow my cover. Still, maybe someday I could show him who I am. And, maybe, if I'm lucky, he'd accept me.

For now, though, it's enough for me to watch as he immediately drifts off into sleep. Realizing not ten seconds later that I actually _have_ to take off his tunic to apply the red potion directly to his injuries is almost overkill, but I'm not going to complain. But blushing… well, blushing, I might be able to let slide.


End file.
